Wrong Turn
by RascalFlattsS
Summary: Michael's meeting with Carlos goes horrible wrong. With Sam and Fiona be there for Michael when he needs them the most? AU for Enemies Closer. Lots of Michael Whumpage! Michael/Sam friendship. Not slash.
1. When It All Goes Wrong

Wrong Turn

By RascalFlattsS

Summary: Michael's meeting with Carlos goes horrible wrong. With Sam and Fi be there for Michael when he needs them the most? AU for Enemies Closer. Lots of Michael Whumpage!

Warnings: Spoiler Alert for Enemies Closer. Some violence and swearing-nothing to major. Keeping it PG rated, I promise.

Ships: A lot of Michael/Sam friendship. Mostly because there aren't enough of those stories on Fanfiction.

Disclaimer: Do not own Burn Notice. Or Jeffery Donovan-what a bummer-he's yummy!

* * *

Chapter 1: When it all goes wrong….

Michael smiled to himself. _Another successful mission, _he thought as he watched Carlos count the money in the back of the trunk.

"So, we're good?" asked Michael, smiling.

Carlos smiled back. "We're great."

Michael starts to walk away, thinking about the temptation that comes with dealing with large amounts of cash. Often people want to steal it, to kill over or worse…

"HEY!"

_Counterfeit_, curses Michael softly. He turns and faces Carlos, hoping and praying that he can talk himself out of this one.

Carlos is holding up one of the bills. "There's no security strip! No thread! Are you trying to pull something?! Where you in on it?!"

"That doesn't make any sense," said Michael. "You run a cash-processing center! Why would I shove Monopoly money in your face? Don't be stupid—"

Michael doesn't even get to finish the sentence. With faster reflexes than Michael expected, his gun is pulled and a shot is fired.

Michael hears the gun go off and then immediately feels white hot pain in right leg. His leg collapses underneath him and he falls to the ground.

Michael gasps for breath as the pain floods through him. He struggles to sit up; the pain from his leg increasing with every breath.

Carlos walks over and pushes Michael back down to the ground. Michael bites his lips to keep from crying out.

"I'm not going to let me call you stupid no more!" screamed Carlos. He pushed the gun into Michael's temple. "Now where's my money!?"

"I don't know!" shouted Michael. He took a couple of deep breathes, trying to control the pain. "But I do know that shooting me in the head isn't going to get you your money!"

"And you can get it?" asked Carlos, pushing the gun harder into his temple.

"I can," gasped Michael. He wanted to add a smart-alecky comment but he barely had enough energy to get out those two words.

Carlos seems to debate what Michael said.

"You have twenty hours," said Carlos softly, "to get me my money." He stomped on Michael's injured leg and Michael gasped in pain as blackness surrounded him. He was barely hanging onto consciousness when he heard Carlos talk again.

"If you double cross me, I'll make you live to regret the fact that I didn't kill you now."

Michael gasped and looked around and saw Carlos walking towards the car. Michael leaned back and sighed in relief when he saw Carlos get in his car and drive away.

_One problem solve…_

_Being a spy, means having people want to kill you and mostly likely shooting guns at you. Having guns being pointed at you will most likely lead to you getting shot. This is why it important to have a back-up team watching your back. _

Michael groaned. He looked at his leg. The bullet had hit him in the upper thigh and by the amount of blood; it had hit some major blood vessels.

"Damn it!" cursed Michael. He struggled to sit up. He then pulled off his jacket. He then folded the jacket and placed it gently on the bullet wound.

"C'mon," groaned Michael as his fingers struggled to unhook his belt. He could use the belt as a tourniquet that would hopefully slow the blood loss. He finally unhooked the belt.

"Now comes the fun part," said Michael softly. He slide the belt under his leg. The movement jostled the wound, causing the pain to increase tenfold. Michael bit his lip so hard it bled.

Michael waited for the pain to subside before him continuing to pull the belt into place. He was about to pull the belt tight when he stopped.

Michael grabbed his cell phone and dialed the familiar number. He cursed when he heard it go to voicemail.

"_This is Fi. Leave a message."_

"Damn it!" cursed Michael. He waited for the beep. "Fi, it's me. Larry swamped the money-I don't know where it is. I'm in trouble and I need your help. It's like that one time in Drogheda. Come to the Warf. Now."

Michael hung up the phone and dialed another familiar number.

"_You've reached the voicemail for Sam Axe…"_

"Sam-"Michael gasped in pain. "I know you are pissed at me and I get it. I'm sorry. But the meeting with Carlos went south and…I need help. Larry doubled-crossed me and switched the money." Michael took a deep breath trying to breathe through the pain. "I've been shot. It's bad. I need your help, Sam. Please don't let me down. _Please_. I'm at the Warf. Help me, Sam." Michael didn't care for the begging in his voice.

Michael heard the phone click off and heard it drop to the ground. He grabbed the belt tightly with both his hands, waiting to pull it tight.

"Here it goes," he prayed softly as he pulled the belt tightly.

Pain flared though his leg as if it was on fire. He tried to scream but there was no oxygen left in his lungs and the world went black.

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	2. Just Hang On

Wrong Turn

By RascalFlattsS

Disclaimer, warnings, spoilers alerts, ect: Refer to Chapter 1. I'd rewrite it all again, but I'm too lazy.

This chapter is from Sam's POV. Enjoy. And don't forget to review!

* * *

Chapter 2: Just Hang On…

"Aren't you going to answer that?"

Sam Axe looked up from his beer at the young twenty something waitress. "What was that, sweetheart?" Sam asked using his most charming voice.

"I said, 'aren't you going to answer that?'" she said pointing to Sam's cell phone lying on the bar next to him.

Sam shook his head. "Nah, it's just my friend." The waitress looked puzzled so Sam continued. "We had a fight."

The waitress smiled. "Oh, I see. And what if your friend is calling to apologize?"

"I highly doubt that," said Sam laughing. "That's not Mike's style."

"People change," said the waitress. "Sometime all they need is just a chance." She smiled. "You should at least give your friend the chance to apologize."

Sam shook his head. "I don't know…"

The waitress walked behind the bar and pulled out another beer and handed it to Sam. "Life's too short for grudges and bitterness. You never know when it's going to end. Do you want the last thing between you and---"She looked at Sam for the name.

"Mike," Sam provided.

"You and Mike to be an angry fight?" she asked. She sighed softly. "If something happens to him before you can talk to him, you'll never forgive yourself."

Sam watched her walk away from behind the bar. He hadn't really been listening to her until he heard the last thing she said. How did she know about Mike's meeting with Carlos? And that Sam was worried about Mikey going in without backup?

Sam sighed. He reached up and picked up his phone.

"Changed your mind huh?" The waitress was back.

"I'm just listening to the voicemail," said Sam smiling. "Doesn't mean I'm going to call him."

The waitress nodded, but Sam couldn't help but notice her smile.

Sam waited for the voicemail to connect. "_You have one unheard message." _

"_Sam_"

Despite the eight degree temperatures and the humidity, Sam felt the temperature drop thirty degrees with that one word. The word was laced with pain.

"_I know you are pissed at me and I get it. I'm sorry. But the meeting with Carlos went south and…I need help."_

"Shit!" whispered Sam softly. The waitress turned to look at him with a concerned look on his face. Sam pulled a wade of dollar bills out of his wallet and threw it down on the bar, not even caring if he overpaid. He then started running towards his car.

"_Larry doubled-crossed me and switched the money."_

"That bastard!" cursed Sam as he got to his car. He knew Larry was trouble and he didn't like Mikey working with the SOB but for him to betray Mikey like that…when Sam got a hold him, he was going to kill him.

He heard the sound of Michael trying a deep breath. That scared him more than anything.

"_I've been shot."_

Sam felt his heart stop. _Oh God, oh God, oh God…._

"_It's bad_."

Sam cursed and pulled the car into gear.

"_I need your help, Sam_."

"Hang on Mikey," whispered Sam. "I'm coming, just hang on."

"_Please don't let me down. __**Please**_." Sam felt his heart break when he heard the begging in Michael's voice. He didn't think Sam would come. He was begging Sam to come and save him, afraid that Sam's anger would keep him away…

Not even the Chinese army could keep Sam away right now.

"Just tell me where you are Mikey," prayed Sam.

"_I'm at the Warf."_

Sam jerked the wheel hard to the left as he now needed to head in the opposite direction. He ignored the blaze of car horns, shouts and rude hand gestures from the other drivers.

"Just hang on Mikey," prayed Sam. His grip on the steering wheel turned his knuckles white and he was losing feeling in his hands but he didn't care.

"_Help me, Sam."_

Sam sniffled and wiped a hand across his face. "I'm coming, Mikey. Just hang on."

* * *

End of Chapter 2. This just felt like a nice natural place to end the chapter so it ended.

I apologize for these short chapters. But I can get them done faster so hopefully, this means we can update faster.

Hopefully I did Sam justice.

Please R&R!


	3. The Bonds of Friendship

Wrong Turn

By RascalFlattsS

A/N: Wow, three chapters in one night! I'm on a roll! I deserve a prize……

Disclaimer, summary, spoiler alerts, warnings, ect… Still the same. Still don't own Burn Notice. Still a bummer. Aw well.

Here ya go-a nice long chapter to hold you over till I can update again.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 3: The Bonds of Friendship

Sam Axe was the type of man to believe in luck. Nor was he the type of man who prayed. After everything he had seen—all the violence, all the needless killing, after watching countless men and women die…it just didn't make any sense to him anymore.

But as he found himself racing to the Warf, he found himself praying for the first time in years.

_Please don't let him die…Please don't take him from me….Please just let him be okay….Please…._

Later when Sam would reflect on that day, he found that he was extremely lucky that he didn't get pulled over, despite the fact that he was going 60 mph in what could only really be described as a "not" 60 mph zone. And he would consider himself lucky for not getting into an accident-even though were a few close calls.

Lucky was definitely on Sam Axe's side that day. He just prayed that it was also on Michael Westen's side as well.

Even though it probably only took ten minutes to get to the Warf, it felt like an eternity. Sam didn't even remember to put the car in gear before he was out and running.

"Mike!" he screamed. "MIKE!" There was no response. Sam shook his head, trying to keep the panic and fear at bay. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Michael's phone number.

_Please ring, please ring, please ring…_

"RING!" shouted Sam into the phone. Sure enough, off to his left, Sam heard the sound of a familiar ringtone playing. Sam took off running in that direction.

Within a hundred yards, Sam saw the still form of a figure lying on the ground. Sam felt his heart drop as he realized who it was. He raced towards the figure and collapsed next to it in the sand.

"No," Sam breathed as he starred down at Michael's still form. His face was deathly pale. Sam looked down and noticed the large pool of blood on the sand underneath Michael's right leg. He touched the balled up jacket over the wound, held tightly in place by the belt. Sam relaxed a little when he didn't feel any fresh blood from the wound.

Sam reached up two shaky fingers to Michael's neck to feel for a pulse. He sighed in relief when he felt the steady pulse underneath his fingers.

"Oh thank God," breathed Sam, his eyes watering up with tears. Mike was alive. He looked up towards the sky. "Thank you."

Sam wiped his hand across his face. He tapped his hand across Michael's face. "Mike! Mike!" He shouted. There was no response. Sam shook Michael's shoulder. "Mike! _Mike!" _He then tapped Michael's face a little bit harder, "MIKE!"

Michael shifted and groaned. He opened his eyes slightly slowly.

Sam sighed. "Oh thank God, Mikey. You really had me worried?"

"Sam?" gasped Michael as he blinked the bright sunlight out of his eyes.

"Of course it's me," joked Sam lightly. "Who else did you think it was? The tooth fairy?" Michael tried to set up but Sam pushed him back down. "Easy Mike."

"What?" asked Michael, confusion clouding his eyes.

"Jeez Mike, you forget already?" asked Sam. "You were shot, remember?"

"Hard to forget," gasped Michael in pain.

Sam lifted up the jacket. Michael gasped in pain and tried to move away from Sam. "Easy Mike. I just need to take a look at the wound."

"How bad?" asked Michael.

Sam sighed. "Well it's not good. Most of the bleeding has stopped, thanks to the tourniquet. But you've still lost a lot of blood. You need a hospital."

"No," gasped Michael. He shook his head. "Take me back to the loft."

"Are you crazy?" asked Sam.

"Trick question?" asked Michael grinning slightly. The grin did turn quickly into a grimace.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Mikey, this isn't a little shoulder wound. The bullet looks like it did some damage and it looks to be deep. This isn't surgery you can do in the living room."

"You did it for Sean," gasped Michael.

Sam sighed. "That was different," he said slowly. And it was different. This was _his _best friend…Sam wasn't going to risk _his_ life…he had already almost lost Michael once today; he'd be damn if he was going to lose Michael again…

Sam swallowed hard trying to fight back all the emotions. He shook his head. "Enough talk Mikey. We need to get you to a hospital. Do you think you can stand and walk to the car if I help you?"

"Yes," said Michael. Sam grabbed his hand and pulled him up to a stand position. The moment a little weight was placed on his leg, it collapsed underneath him. Michael would have fallen forward had Sam not grabbed his arm and held him upright.

"Easy Mikey," said Sam. He pulled Michael's arm over his shoulder and took all the weight. "Just lean on me Mikey. Let me do all the work."

Michael nodded, "Not a problem Sam."

The progress to the car was long and slow. After five minutes, Sam and Michael reached the car. Sam helped Michael into the car before getting in the car himself.

"How are you doing Mikey?" asked Sam.

"I've been better," gritted Michael. His eyes were closed and he was gripping the seat so tight his knuckles turned white.

"Just hang on Mikey," said Sam. "We're almost there."

Michael cracked in eye open. "Liar. We're at least twenty minutes from the loft."

"I told you Mikey," said Sam, "we're not going to the loft; we're going to the hospital."

"But I'm fine," whined Michael.

"Now who's the liar?" asked Sam.

"Sam, I can't," whispered Michael. "I can't go to the hospital."

"Yes you can," said Sam. "Especially since I'm driving."

Michael shook his head. "No. Can't explain. Police," he gasped.

Sam nodded. With any mention of a gunshot wound, the hospital was obligated to call the police. And for a burnt spy who was suppose to be keeping his nose clean, that could be a problem.

"We'll figure something out," said Sam. "And we'll figure out something to tell the police. We can worry about that later, okay?"

"But Gilroy-"started Sam. "And Larry?"

"Don't worry about them, right now okay?" said Sam. "First let's get you to the hospital and get you better and then we can deal with Gilroy and Larry, okay?"

"But-" Michael started.

"No buts, Mike!" shouted Sam. "You have a gunshot wound in your leg and are bleeding out by the liter! So you are going to the hospital if I have to drag you there myself! Nothing-and I mean _nothing_- is not important than your life! Understand?!"

Michael nodded. Sam smiled, "Good." He turned his attention back to driving. There were several moments of silence until…

"Sam?"

"Yeah Mikey?"

"I'm sorry," said Michael.

"About what?" asked Sam, puzzled. "Getting shot? Because I don't think that was your fault."

Michael shook his head. "About Gilroy. I should have listened to you." He took a deep breath. "And I'm sorry."

"Oh Mikey," sighed Sam. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I let you go into a dangerous meeting without any backup because I was angry and you—you got hurt." Sam shook his head, blinking rapidly.

"You came and got me," said Michael.

"Of course, I did," said Sam. "You've been there for me when I needed it. That's what friends are for."

Michael nodded. "That's what friends are for," he agreed.

Sam smiled as he saw the hospital. He pulled into the parking lot. He put the car in park and got out. He ran over to the passenger side and helped Michael out.

"You ready?" asked Sam as they limped-Sam was once again supporting most of Michael's weight.

"No," said Michael, shaking his head, fear creeping into his voice.

"Don't worry Mikey," said Sam. "Everything is going to be okay."

Michael nodded. "Why? You going to hold my hand?" he asked jokingly.

Sam laughed. "You'd better believe it! That's what friends are for."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All right, that seems like a good place to end-that and I should probably go study and whatnot.

Please R&R! Your reviews are always appreciated and they are very helpful in encouraging me to update the story and adding to the story. Plus, they make me happy! :-D


	4. A Regular Hospital Trip for Spies Anyway

Wrong Turn

By RascalFlattsS

Disclaimer: Still don't own Burn Notice.

Thanks for all the reviews! I love them! Thanks for your patience! I will try to update sooner.

Chapter 4: Just a Regular Hospital Trip…For a Spy Anyway

Michael was a deadweight as Sam dragged him into the ER. Michael tried to help Sam balance his weight but when Michael tried to put weight on it, the leg collapsed underneath him, almost dragging Michael and Sam down. The only thing that kept them both upright was a young man walking by saw them about to fall and rush forward to grab Michael's other arm. He was able to hold Michael up while Sam regained his footing.

"Are you alright?" asked the man.

"Yeah," said Sam.

"Speak for yourself," groaned Michael.

"Could you give us a hand?" Sam asked. The young man nodded. Between the two of them, they were able to support Michael's weight.

"I'm Jack," said Jack. "I'm a doctor here."

"Sam," said Sam. "This is Mike."

"Hi," said Michael softly.

They burst through the ER doors, and everyone looked up at them.

"Laura!" shouted Jack. "Get me a gurney!"

One of the nurses nodded and ran to do as Jack asked. Jack turned to Sam. "What happened?"

"It's a long story," started Sam.

"How about the short version?" asked Jack quickly.

"Mikey got shot," said Sam.

The nurse came up alongside them with the gurney. "Help me get him up," said Jack. Sam nodded. They both lifted Michael and lifted him up onto the gurney. They tried not to touch his leg but when they set him down on the gurney, Michael cried out in pain.

"Let's get him into a room!" shouted Jack as they wheeled him into a room. Sam followed them.

Jack took one look at the tourniquet, "I'm guessing you were shot in the leg?"

"Good guess," said Michael, his voice laced with pain.

"Well you did a good job with the tourniquet," said Jack, looking up at Sam. He paused. "You weren't the one who shot him, right?"

"NO!" said Sam.

"No," added Michael weakly. "Not Sam. Never Sam."

Jack nodded. "Just thought I should ask." He turned to the nurse. "Laura, let's set up an IV with saline solution to start and get some blood ready. Let's get an X-ray and alert the OR."

"OR?" whispered Michael.

"It's okay Mikey," said Sam. He grabbed Michael's hand and Michael squeezed tightly. "Everything is going to be okay. Right, Doc?"

Jack nodded. "Mike-I assume that is short for 'Michael', right?" Michael nodded. "Now, Michael, while Laura gets the X-ray set up, I need you to answer some questions for me."

Michael nodded. "Okay."

"First, do you know your blood type?" asked Jack.

"A positive," said Michael.

"Okay," said Jack. "I'll tell Gail to get some A positive blood ready."

"He needs a transfusion?" asked Sam. "Are you sure? Has he lost that much blood?"

"It's difficult to say," said Jack. "It appears Michael has suffered some blood loss but until I remove the tourniquet, I can't say for certain, which I don't want to do until we're ready to operate. I just want it ready in case we need it." Sam nodded.

"Michael, do you have any allergies?" asked Jack. "Or any medical conditions that we need to be aware of."

"Pollen," said Michael softly.

"What was that?" asked Jack.

"He said he's allergic to pollen," said Sam. "And no, he doesn't have any other medical conditions apart of the bullet in his leg."

Jack laughed softly, "I kind of figured."

"Here you are, doctor," said Laura. She handed him the X-ray of Michael's leg. He held up to the light and sighed.

"Bad news," said Jack. "There's no exit wound; the bullet is still in your leg. We're going to have to head to OR to remove it."

Sam nodded. He had expected this. "When?"

"As soon as possible," said Jack. "Let me check." He walked over to the phone.

"Sam?" asked Michael softly.

"Yeah Mikey?" asked Sam.

"Will you call my mom?" asked Michael. "And Fi?"

Sam nodded. "Of course. I'll take care of everything-the police, Larry, Gilroy, everything, okay? You just focus on getting better, okay?"

Michael nodded.

"The OR is ready," said Jack. "Sam, Laura will show you to the waiting room by OR where we'll keep you up-to-date on Michael's surgery."

Sam nodded. "I actually needed to step outside and make a few phone calls first." Sam took a deep breath. "Take good care of him, okay?"

Jack nodded. "We'll do our best."

"I'll see you later, Mikey," said Sam as they wheeled Michael out. He smiled when he saw Michael give him a small wave.

Sam took a deep breath and walked outside. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a familiar number.

"_Miami Police Department, how may I direct your call?" _

"I need to speak to Detective Paxton."

Cliffie karma returns!

Please R&R and let me know what you think! Reviews encourage me to update sooner…:-D


End file.
